


More Than Words

by idrilhadhafang



Category: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Spoilers, Unrequited Love, angst_bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 15:36:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilhadhafang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arawn can't sleep. Atton's already beginning to come to grips with his actions during the Jedi Civil War, as well as unrequited love for Arawn. The two of them are very much related.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than Words

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Written for the angst_bingo prompt "Stigma". Song title from "Plenty" by Sarah McLachlan.

She's already forgiven him. And for that, even now, he's grateful. He doesn't know how long he's wandered the galaxy ever since he left Revan and the Sith army where he trained behind, but if anything, he can't say that it was what he called a pleasant series of wanderings. If anything, Atton most remembers going to whatever bars he can find -- trying to drown his sorrows, ordering juma, taking the odd job here and there, and trying, vainly, if anything, to forget how he had basically been a murderer the whole time. He hadn't joined Revan out of spite -- he had joined for the same reasons the other Sith had joined, presumably: because Revan had saved them. Because he and Malak were willing to do what the other Jedi didn't have the guts to do. The Jedi, the ones who called themselves the guardians of peace and justice, but couldn't be bothered to actually live up to their name. The Jedi, who had exiled  _her_  just for the sake of having a bit of sense to actually get up and do something.  
  
Arawn had even said, basically, that one of the Jedi (Atris) had thought of having her imprisoned or executed -- or worse. Even thinking about that is enough to make him angry. What has Atris done except hide in her own corner of the ice academy, freezing her cargo hold off while the rest of the world burned? Atris no doubt knows nothing of things such as Duro and Serocco -- the Mandalorian attack that displaced so many and left them refugees -- one of many groups that ended up in the Refugee Sector on Nar Shaddaa. She doesn't know about Eres III and the fires set to the planet that burn still. Atris is no doubt just like the rest of the Jedi -- sheltered, arrogant, frightened of who she is and what she could accomplish. Granted, Arawn had said once that Atris used to be one of her dearest friends -- even now, though, Atton doesn't believe it.   
  
Perhaps it's just slight bias on his part -- mostly due to Arawn herself -- but he can't imagine a close friend doing something like that to another friend. Then again, people tend to do and say ridiculous things when they're grieving -- but knowing the Jedi, Atton doubts that they felt anything for those that marched off to war. They were probably just brushed under the cargo ramp, another dirty little Jedi secret.  
  
It's then that he feels her presence. Walking up towards him. He turns around to see her with shadows under her eyes, haggard-looking, haunted-looking. "You okay?"  
  
She smiles, if wanly. "I'm all right." She takes the seat opposite him in the cockpit. "I just can't sleep."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Nightmares. About Malachor." Even as she speaks, she seems almost quiet -- haunted, even. Her eyes seem to glaze over in an almost thousand-yard stare, like she gets at times whenever she speaks of the Mandalorian Wars -- of Malachor. Even now, Atton still remembers how he had ranted about the Jedi at Malachor, how almost all of them had gotten what they had deserved -- even remembering it, he still wonders how he could have said something like that to her. Of course she wouldn't approve of it -- but he had been so angry, so frightened, so bewildered, that he spoke without thinking. Even remembering it, perhaps he can pity Atris a bit -- she may be human. Flawed. Able to make mistakes, but scared to acknowledge it -- and why should she? It's not like the Jedi Code really leaves room for being human.  
  
He reaches over, squeezes her hand gently, almost on an impulse. She seems startled at first, but smiles, brighter this time -- he likes this smile. That brilliant grin -- that could shine brighter than Tatooine's twin suns, or the stars themselves. "Thanks, Atton."  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?" He's almost cautious now. "I mean -- you don't have to -- '' He can't even explain it. If anything, he hates it whenever she looks sad -- it's almost like she's retreated into herself. Like whatever light in her has faded. He knows that when he first met her, it was almost like that. A woman who looked like she'd fallen on some bleak days, to say the least. Then again, if there's anyone on this ship that isn't kriffed up in some way or another, he'd be surprised. The Mandalorian War, the Jedi Civil War and this -- he doubts it's been kind to any of them over the years. Bao-Dur is testament to that.  
  
He supposes he should get to know the crew members some more. Maybe not bicker with the Handmaiden as much. Help Bao-Dur out with repairs in the garage. Get to know Mical a little more -- not that he quite wants to. Something about the historian/Republic diplomat/what-have-you just bugs him and he doesn't know why. Practice lightsaber training with Visas Marr -- the girl could use the company.   
  
"I'm all right. But thank you. What about you, Atton?"

There's so much that he wants to say to her. To apologize again for the things he said. To fully express his worry about how she had been brought aboard Goto's yacht -- he doubts that she really gets how he had come so close to panicking, that he had somehow failed her, let another person down, fouled up a possible second chance -- or maybe she does know, and he doesn't know that she knows.   
  
Or maybe she doesn't know about the other thing. When he first rescued her from Peragus, they were mostly tentative allies -- wanting to get off Peragus alive and in one piece. She was cute, yes, pretty charming, yes, but even now -- somehow, he doesn't know when it started, but there's something in him that would do anything for that smile. That laugh that seems to light up her entire face. That would do whatever he could to protect her from the Sith -- already pretty powerful before, but even now --  
  
He can't describe it. And worst of all, he's not certain if she'll ever quite know, because he can't find a good way to vocalize it.   
  
But whatever she may or may not feel for him, no matter what happens, he'll never, ever let her down. No matter what.  
  
"You're not alone on the nightmares front, if that's what you're wondering." He doesn't know why he said it. Perhaps to just reassure her that everything's all right. Yes, that's definitely it.  
  
Her eyes become soft, gentle, sympathetic. "Atton..."  
  
"It's all right. Honestly, if there's anyone who's not carrying some sort of baggage from the Wars, I'd be surprised."  
  
Arawn merely nods. "Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
"All right." And even now, as he begins to tell his story, about how he first entered Republic service, about the course of the Mandalorian Wars, he feels almost vulnerable. Exposed. And scared -- scared and raw and vulnerable as he was the first time he was fully opened to the Force, when the Jedi had opened her mind to his and showed him the Force, and what she felt -- how he had killed her if only to end her suffering. How he had faked his death and left Revan's service, taking on the alias of Atton Rand -- going from place to place without direction, without a destination, drunk and confused and broken from the fact that his leader, someone he had looked up to, someone he had seen as his savior, someone who had saved him from the ruins of Malachor, to boot, had been manipulating him the whole time.  
  
 _"Why did you save me?" Even speaking, his voice sounded hoarse and cracked. "You should have left me to die."  
  
For a moment, he could swear that the Sith Lord's eyes had gone soft and sad and almost distant, almost regretful. Then he spoke again. "Jaq Noble, I am not the Jedi Council. I won't simply leave you to die. Besides, you are destined for greater things than lying crushed in Malachor's grip."  
  
"Greater things?"  
  
"Yes. If anything, I believe you may be one of many people who can help us lead the galaxy into a brighter age. Away from war, grief, despair. Away from circumstances where this may have to happen again."  
  
Even now, as Revan spoke, Jaq could see a hint of sadness in those eyes -- behind that momentary flash of idealism. And then, "Where's Kara? And Jinn?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Jaq." Revan's voice was soft. "They didn't make it."_  
  
In hindsight, it may have been the loss of his teammates (and somehow, he had survived. Revan had saved him, if only because he was made for "greater things" -- perhaps a more pretentious way of saying he was the most useful, so he was allowed to live. It was the way of the Sith, after all. If you outlived your usefulness in their eyes, they couldn't care less about you. Almost a dark mirror of the Jedi, really) that drove him over the edge. Seeing the horrors of the Mandalorian Wars. Wanting to please Revan and make the galaxy better -- after all, who wouldn't want to make the galaxy better, in some way or another? Even now, Atton doubts there's a soul out there who doesn't somehow want to improve the galaxy, and what happened to him...what happened to him is one of the worst possible outcomes in terms of that sort of extremism.  
  
Perhaps with Arawn by his side, he can atone for what he's done, in a way. He doubts it'll be easy -- since when has anything been easy? -- but at the very least, he can try.   
  
And no matter what they may say about Arawn, he will stand by her. Always. 


End file.
